


Sleepless Nights (aren't so bad when I'm with you)

by maybe_we_were



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Natasha Needs a Hug, Nightmares, One Shot, Protective Steve, Romance, Sleepy Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-15
Updated: 2015-04-15
Packaged: 2018-03-23 03:50:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3753397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maybe_we_were/pseuds/maybe_we_were
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve occasionally has problems sleeping, but has found sketching is a good coping method.  He's surprised to find that when Natasha has nightmares, she decides to come to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleepless Nights (aren't so bad when I'm with you)

**Author's Note:**

> This was really interesting to write, since I occasionally have problems sleeping myself. I really like to think that Steve is protective of everyone in the tower, especially Natasha. I hope you guys enjoy!  
> Of course, these lovely characters belong to Stan Lee/Marvel.

A lot of things have changed since Steve woke up from the ice.

His inability to sleep…hasn’t. 

When he first tried sleeping (after getting over the shock of being frozen in _ice_ for seventy years), there were always nightmares.  They ranged in complexity, and there were a few the happened on a regular basis.  Bucky’s hand slipping.  Losing his parents.  Peggy’s voice before he plunged into cold and darkness.

There wasn’t anybody (at the time) that he wanted to talk to about it.  Honestly, he’d rather deal with them by himself, since he knew that these nightmares were just a part of his past. There were plenty of things to look forward to in the new New York that he was living in. After a few months, he found that sketching out the scenes in his head was a painful, yet healing, method of letting go.

Still, once in a while he’ll wake up in a cold sweat, heart pounding so hard he can feel it throughout his body.  The flashbacks aren’t as frequent, which he is thankful for.  On those nights, he’d either grab a shower and go back to bed or wash up and make a cup of tea, waiting until the sun rose over the horizon, signaling a new day. 

He’s not the only one in Stark Tower to have his past come back to haunt him in the middle of the night.  Some nights he’ll see Tony down in his lab, creating yet another suit, and he notices it happens mostly when Pepper is away on business or visiting family.  Although he doesn’t say it, Steve is pretty sure that without Pepper, Tony would be a completely different man.  Clint has them too.  Sitting across the island from him in the morning, it doesn’t take much for Steve to notice the hollow look in Clint’s gray eyes.  Bruce even joins him on nights neither of them can keep the demons at bay.  Over tea, he makes suggestions of what he thinks Steve might like or should look up from the past seventy years. 

The only one Steve never sees or hears about is Natasha.  He knows her past (or at least, what she’s told him of it) and with the horrible things she’s seen…well, he has no clue how he _hasn’t_ seen her out of bed once, like the rest of the team. 

He lays in bed thinking about nothing and everything at once.  It won’t do his mind any good, and he _knows_ that, but it’s hard to stop thinking about things once you start.  It’s like his mind is on a roller coaster and he can’t get off.  Feeling himself starting to get worked up, he focuses on the sketchpad on his nightstand, which is a foot or so away.  It’s barely visible in the moonlight, but it’s enough to help him calm down.  He takes a deep breath through his nose and out his mouth. 

_Inhale._

_Exhale._

_Inhale._

_Exhale._

Giving his pillow a good punch, he rolls so he’s lying on his back and tries to fall asleep.  The deep breathing must have really worked, because he’s in between consciousness when he feels the covers shift and the bed dip. 

In his semi-awake state, he almost reaches for his shield before he remembers that it’s propped next to his dresser, a good five feet away.  Then he realizes that the likelihood of someone getting into the tower unannounced is probably one in one billion, if that.  His door was locked before he went to bed, so whoever is here must have gotten permission from JARVIS. 

The only one who has permission is Natasha (too many pranks and fake “emergencies” from Tony and Clint took away their ability and Bruce said to not allow him just in case the “other guy” decided to make an appearance).  He can definitely tell it’s her because he can smell a hint of the cherry blossom lotion she puts on before going to bed.

He tries to keep his breathing steady, since he isn’t sure if he should pretend that he’s still asleep or acknowledge her presence.  Part of him wonders why she’s here.  Not that he doesn’t want her here, he just thought she would have gone to Clint first. 

It doesn’t matter though; he’s happy she decided to slide into _his_ bed. 

When he hears a small sniffle, he decides on the latter, hoping he’ll find out the reason for her late-night appearance.  He’s developed a…soft spot for the red-headed Russian.  They’ve been on too many missions to count, endured endless jokes from Tony, and spent time just being _themselves_ , whoever they are. 

Slowly, he rolls to his side and whispers a quiet, “Nat.”

She’s looking at him with wide eyes, and something is definitely, definitely wrong because they look glassy, as if she’s trying to hold back tears.  It wouldn’t surprise him if she was, because she’s strong, too strong for her own good to the point where she holds _everything_ in. 

She doesn’t say anything, which makes Steve more worried than he already is.  How is he supposed to help if he has _no_ clue what’s wrong? 

One small tear escapes and trickles down her cheek, and he can’t help himself.  He slides one hand over her rib cage, which is covered by a tank top, and pulls her so that she is encircled in his arms.  He’s probably crushing her to him, but it feels like she needs it, because she suddenly breaks down in tears.  It _kills_ him on the inside, because he hates to see her cry.

Her body shakes a little, and he starts to rub soothing circles on her back, as if they could heal whatever is broken. 

He does this for a few minutes until she is quiet again, save for her slightly heavy breathing.  Each breath hits his chest as he feels her start to calm down.  He supposes it should be weird, since he’s only wearing boxers, but it doesn’t seem to faze Natasha. 

Still, it’s _intimate_ , and Steve is feeling things he shouldn’t for his teammate. 

Though, if he’s being honest (which is something he strives for), he knows that she’s been more than that for a while now.

Focusing on the current situation, he leans back and little and asks, “What’s wrong?” 

Not the most tactful question, but it gets the point across. 

“Nightmare,” she replies, her voice still thick from crying.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks, his blue eyes searching her green ones.

Part of his wanting to know comes from being the team captain, but the other part has a lot to do with what’s thumping in the left side of his chest.

He waits a few seconds before she replies.

“There’s so much red in my ledger.  I just wonder what would have happened had Clint not taken me in.  What if he had made a different call?  What if I didn’t get my second chance to make things right?”

He’s not sure what to say to that, since it all happened way before he was around, so he does his best to comfort her with what he does know.

“You are one of the best agents SHIELD has.  Don’t ever doubt that.  Clint saw that potential in you, and soon after, so did Coulson and Fury.  What truly matters is that you _are_ here.” 

He pauses.

“More importantly, you’re here with _me_.”

He’s afraid he’s said too much and he can already hear all the possible responses.  _It’s too fast.  Love is for children. We’re too different. We’re teammates._

But no, she’s here and she’s trying to move closer, so she’s either not surprised or doesn’t mind.  Judging by how her fingers move up his bare chest and glide through his hair, he knows this is not some silly crush or a one-sided thing. 

He exhales a breath he didn’t even know he was holding.  She continues carding her fingers though his hair as if it’s _her_ job to soothe _him_.

“That’s true,” she says after a minute. 

“Thank you for always being here.”

He just hums in response, and begins running his hands over the smooth skin of her waist and lower back.  Their faces aren’t too far from each other’s, a few inches at the most.  Her head was already tilted towards his, and his breath hitches when her face gets closer.

He almost feels like he should let _her_ make the final move, but…

_Screw it._

Their lips clash together and Steve couldn’t really imagine it happening any other way.  They’re both pulling, pushing, teasing each other’s mouth and it’s the demanding kind of kiss you can get addicted to. 

After a few minutes, he absolutely has to breathe, so he inhales sharply through his nose before fitting his mouth to hers again.  He’s glad he has excellent stamina because his heart feels like it’s about to jump out of his chest. 

The second time they separate, they’re both panting a little.  Although he wouldn’t mind continuing what they were doing, he knows they both need sleep.  They can talk about what happened in the morning.

When she whispers, “Hold me,” he knows they’re on the same page.

“Of course,” he says, re-positioning his arms around her so they are more comfortable. 

She falls asleep first, and he spends some time looking at the light freckles that decorate her face, the bow shape at the top of her lip, her long lashes.  He knows if he openly looked at her like he is now when she was awake, he would probably get a raised eyebrow and a huff before she redirected his attention, so he takes the opportunity while he has it.  He also knows exactly what he’ll be sketching in the morning. 

For now, the feel of Natasha’s chest rising and falling lulls him to sleep, and he hopes he can make her presence an every night occurrence.


End file.
